


i could lose my heart tonight

by orphan_account



Series: deliciously difficult (damerey fic) [1]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Insecurities, Love Confessions, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Spoilers, i'm soft for soft!poe okay?, pining!!!!!, this was a 5+1 that died young
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 06:00:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21971056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: 'Good enough' - it's not a phrase that either of them would use to describe themselves.But maybe, just maybe, it's something they can find in each other.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Rey
Series: deliciously difficult (damerey fic) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1583491
Comments: 18
Kudos: 121





	i could lose my heart tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Writing for new pairings is always scary for me, but I can't get these idiots out of my head, so I kinda just made it a thing. It's sappy and probably extremely maudlin, but I kinda like it. Took me forever to get done, too - for some reason I decided to be a perfectionist about this at midnight. Nice one, S.

It doesn't feel like fireworks. It's not a world-shattering epiphany. No, it's more of a subtle shift; Poe falls for Rey on a gradient, something that feels utterly foreign. 

Somewhere in between the celebrations and the funerals and the endless bureaucratic red-tape involved in rebuilding a galaxy rent by war, somewhere between the arguments and games of holochess and the nights when neither can sleep, he begins to _see_ her. He wonders how he remained unaware of the way she slips between resilience and vulnerability so readily when she wants to, how he didn't see the way her eyes sparkle when an argument turns to a sparring match, the way she moves through the world with such grace without ever losing that rough-around-the-edges pragmatism. 

Soon he can't deny that maybe those little observations have outgrown the convenient mental container he'd tried to confine them in, and he wonders exactly what went wrong. He’s careful in things like this, because it is absolutely serious to him - careful with _her_ because she is far too much to risk, and because there is absolutely no point in giving his heart to someone who will almost certainly give it back. (He chooses to ignore the voice in the back of his mind reminding him that he did that a long time ago.) Poe can't ever remember beingso disarmed, so distracted, by an object of his affections - he’s never felt...well, _taken_. But one look at Rey - one reassuring squeeze of his hand when they find themselves wandering the halls at night after insomnia claims them both, one tentative smile - is about enough to undo every mental blockade he's put in place against this. It's pointless, it's a distraction, it's _hopeless,_ really. 

But sometimes he can't help but _stare_ when he's around her, as if he's a lovesick teenager, because the sight of her, when there's no war to fight and no loneliness to consume her and she can be _young,_ maybe for the first time in her life - it's _beautiful._ He wishes he could think of a better word for whatever that is, but "beautiful" will do. Beautiful, when Rey lets her guard down and laughs, when she gets that determined look in her eye and raises her chin to take on the world and he just _knows_ no one she's up against stands a chance. Beautiful, and so undeniably...young. 

Something he is undeniably _not._

It's the argument he always uses against himself when he finds himself playing with the ring on a chain around his neck, debating whether it might ever be worth it to say something. (If he could ever put it into words, that is - and that was a gamble.) He's given his best years to the Resistance when hers are just beginning. He knows he isn't _old,_ but the years have worn him down quicker than they should have, and Rey's not _that_ much younger than him...

But he still worries, because he can't imagine she'd ever want to spend the prime of her life with someone whose prime is fading fast. He doubts she'd want to share every morning with someone who oftentimes can't help but cringe at the pain in his back when he wakes (blame a lifetime of cramming into the cockpit of an X-Wing or blame age - it matters little which). 

No, Rey deserves to be young, beside someone with as full a life ahead of them as she has.

So he bites back his words, tucks the ring back under his shirt, and resolves to content himself with admiration from afar. 

* * *

Rey wouldn't classify herself as "innocent." At all. She's seen just about everything in twenty short years and she has no illusions about the fact that the life of a survivor rarely leaves a clean record behind. But when it comes to romance? 

She's...well, inexperienced. 

Rey's always been able to call things as she sees them, and this is one such thing. Love was never really a priority in her old life - not when she'd been fending for herself on Jakku, utterly alone; not when there was a war to fight. So she'd never been all that worried about the fact that someday she might meet someone (say, a certain dashing, highly-decorated, deliciously-difficult pilot), and perhaps she'd feel things she wasn't quite sure what to make of (cue the months of _noticing things,_ finding every excuse to be near him, never knowing why - or at least claiming not to), and would have no idea what she was up against when she did (cue the panic when, after Rey had finished expounding at length upon some minute observation she'd made, Rose had announced, "aww, you _like_ him!" with far too much delight). Her past self had also not considered the fact that any of that might be in her future. _Her future-_

She always chides herself there. It's so, so tempting - imagining a future where he is her safety, her stability, her _home_ \- but it's no use. If he ever knew, he'd probably freeze for a moment, gaping like a fish, because all he'd ever seen in her was a (much younger) friend, and then he'd rush to apologize - he cares too much not to feel a little guilty that he doesn't share her feelings - and he'd try to be nice about it, because they're _friends,_ and he _cares,_ but _not like that._ And everything would be awkward and stilted and she'd secretly miss the days when they could bicker like an old married couple and comfort each other when they couldn't sleep and forever regret saying anything-

So _clearly,_ watching from the distance was all she could do.   
  


Because she dreads - with near-certainty of her fear being founded - that there’s nothing he would want with a woman who’s only ever known how to be alone. 

* * *

Usually, when the nightmares come, they wander the halls. Sometimes they find each other - it's not uncommon - and when they do, it's a routine both have quickly grown fond of, however unfortunate the circumstances of its creation. They need to move, need to talk, need to be with someone and fill their minds with something good enough to block out whatever it is they're running from. 

But tonight, the hallway is deserted when Rey wakes, and for a few minutes she tries to walk alone. She doesn't want to wake anyone, let alone Poe - but being alone with her thoughts never does Rey any good. So, chiding herself all the way, she pads down the hall to Poe's quarters and nudges open his unlatched door. 

"Funny...I was just about to go find you," Poe says groggily by way of a greeting. He's lying on his back, clutching a pillow to his chest and intently watching the ceiling. "Can't sleep?" 

'Walk with me?" she asks, palms sweating. It's so routine that she wonders why she's nervous now, but as he stands to join her (grimacing, she notices - _is he injured?),_ she can't help but note that her heart is hammering wildly in her chest. As they walk the halls, she glances up at Poe, and he back at her with so much tenderness that she might cry if she wasn't so sure she's imagining it. For a moment, they don't speak; he loops his arm around her shoulders, and she's so stunned for that she can't quite get words out. If the tiny tremor in his hand is any indication, he's half-expecting her to duck away from his touch, but she doesn't. Once Rey is accustomed to the weight and warmth of his arm over her shoulders, she leans in; it's _wonderful,_ being touched like this, someone _knowing_ when she needs to be held. She's never had that before. The silence doesn't seem so heavy as they walk, leaning into each other like halves of a whole. 

Predictably, it's Poe who breaks the silence. "This is nice." 

"Aside from the, I don't know, nightmares and insomnia?" Rey smirks in spite of herself. "Yeah, it is." 

She could've sworn she felt a tiny squeeze of her shoulders at that, and when she looks up Poe is smiling as if there's no place he'd rather be. In a moment of who-even-knows-what, she nuzzles against his neck, tucking her face into his shoulder.

(Poe's heart nearly stops and he _swears_ that he's _this close_ to kissing her and all he can feel is a bright burst of affection spreading throughout his entire body and he can't take it anymore and-)

"Rey." 

"Yeah?" Rey asks, muffled from the awkward angle of her face. 

He stops walking, moves his arm from her shoulders, turns her to face him and takes her hands before he can talk himself out of it. Rey's face is flushed, and she isn't meeting his eyes, but if he doesn't get this out now he doubts he ever will-  
  


"I love you." 

Her eyes meet his for the briefest of seconds, and every conceivable emotion crosses her face, but the response she finally settles on is " _what?"_

Poe's face falls, and she _finally_ meets his eyes, and his words still haven't fully sunk in yet, but she frantically starts to explain. "I thought...well, it's just...I don't know anything about love, and everyone says you could have your pick of-"

"Rumors are rumors, Sunshine," Poe sighs, still not sure whether he's being rejected or not and thus equal parts hopeful and crestfallen. "I...hold on to my heart. People might _say_ otherwise, but you know how they are. And even if I were...like that...it wouldn't be true anymore." He's brushing his thumbs across her knuckles now, trying not to look at her. 

"Yes it would," Rey says plainly, as if she cannot possibly understand why every woman in the galaxy is not falling desperately at his feet. (She can't, to be quite frank.) 

"Sunshine, I'm...old. The last few years have taken a lot out of me, you know that. And I know you deserve someone with a full life to live-"

She presses her lips against his before he can finish his sentence.

It's blink-and-you'd-miss-it, chaste, shy - but when she pulls away, he's so awed that he doesn't even have the sense to pull her back in like he's wanted to for so, _so_ long. 

"Sorry. Sorry," she mutters, looking at the floor again. "I...don't really know how to do that?"

"Rey?" he asks, wary and awestruck and (yes, a little bit smitten) incandescently happy all at once. "...Sunshine?" 

She simply nods, and it's all the confirmation he needs. He pulls her flush against him, his shaky hands resting against her lower back; she looks up at him, and she _smiles,_ and he knows in that moment that he'd die a thousand times to see that smile again, and their lips meet, and he doesn't care that moisture's welling in his eyes because _Rey loves him_ and he still can't quite believe it. 

When they pull away, their foreheads rest against each other; they're panting, smiling, still holding each other close. 

"I'd rather have half a life with you than three with anyone else," Rey murmurs. 

"Then take it." He cards his fingers through her hair, still a little matted from sleep. "And for the record, you are _excellent_ at that." 

"Don't flatter me," Rey teases, not trying to conceal the hitch in her voice even as her tone grows lighter. "I could use practice." 

"Same here-"

"Oh, shut up."

"No, really. It's been...years since I kissed anyone. 'm not kidding, Rey. Wanted to wait for the right person." 

"And...that's me?" Rey's voice is small with shyness.

He backs a few inches away and simply _looks_ at her, sheer adoration on his face, as if her eyes hold every answer he needs. 

"But...why?" Rey asks after a few moments, overwhelmed to the point of monosyllabism yet again.

"Because you're..." he hunts for a word for a few seconds only to find more than he could ever use. "Everything. You're _everything."_

"I'm not sure what you mean by that, but I'll take your word for it." Rey can't help but smile and Poe can't help but lift her chin and kiss the tip of her nose because it's been a long time coming and this right here?

_Perfection._

"Poe?" Rey asks. 

(And oh, that soft little smile when she says his name is going to be the death of her.) 

"Yes, Sunshine?" 

"Kiss me again?" 

He's only too happy to oblige. 

Tonight, his heart is light. 

**Author's Note:**

> yes, that title was absolutely a Selena reference.


End file.
